


you'd have me down on my knees (you gonna burn to the wick)

by symphony7inAmajor



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Hair-pulling, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, basically they're spicing up their marriage, blake "sir" wheeler, mark "bratty" scheifele, metaphorically speaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22018639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: Mark has been taking stupid penalties lately. Blake takes matters into his own hands.(mark just wants to be good.)
Relationships: Mark Scheifele/Blake Wheeler
Comments: 8
Kudos: 105





	you'd have me down on my knees (you gonna burn to the wick)

**Author's Note:**

> "we need three things we need 1. bratty scheifs with blake putting him in his place, so to speak, 2. Tie Him Up 3. praise kink" so uh just under three weeks after that message, here i am,
> 
> i was feeling some Horny Scheif a few weeks ago and it took me forever to like... get done with this. but it is done now. didn't spend too long on the exhibition here, but know that this is something They Do and pre-negotiated et cetera
> 
> mostly based off scheif's antics from a couple weeks ago when he got penalties (especially that one unsportsmanlike conduct one... idiot!) then redeeming himself via goals. also, blake "sir" wheeler. obviously.
> 
> title from "barracuda" by heart

Blake catches Mark by the shoulder right before he can go take a shower.    


His grip is heavy, his fingers almost bruising tight against Mark’s skin, and Mark freezes in place. Blake digs his fingers in a little harder and Mark swallows down a noise. His calloused palm is warm and dry on Mark’s sweaty skin.

“Blake,” he says. He knows where this is going.

Blake drops his hand. “Come over tonight,” he says. He flicks a glance at the showers. “Clean up well.”

Mark licks his lips unconsciously. “Yes, sir,” he says, half teasing and half serious.

Blake’s jaw tenses and he looks like he’s about to say something, but he turns away and heads back to his stall. Mark lets himself watch for a second, appreciating the view of his muscled back, then he decides he doesn’t need to risk getting a boner in the locker room any more than he already is and goes to shower.

He takes his time in the shower, letting the hot water run the tension out of his muscles and ease the ache of his bruises. When he finally turns off the water, he’s the only one left in the locker room.

He gets dressed slowly. He knows Blake might be annoyed if he takes too long, but that’s half the fun, really. He ties his tie in a tidy knot, puts on his jacket and drives to Blake’s.

Anticipation builds in Mark’s stomach with every passing minute. He can make some guesses about what Blake will want tonight, but it’s impossible to be certain.    


Besides, anything he guesses is probably wrong anyway. Blake likes to surprise him.

The door is unlocked when he arrives, so he lets himself in. He leaves his boots and coat in the entryway and, after a moment of consideration, he hangs up his suit jacket.    


Following the quiet noises through the house, Mark finds Blake in the living room with the TV on. He’s still wearing his suit, too. He glances up when Mark steps into the room. 

“You took your time,” he says mildly, switching off the TV so everything is quiet except for their breathing and the sound of Mark’s pulse thrumming in his ears. 

“You didn’t say I shouldn’t,” Mark answers. He swallows hard at the look Blake gives him. “Um—” 

“Careful,” Blake says. He stands up and crosses his arms. “Come here.”

Mark only hesitates for a second before stepping closer, until he’s close enough that he can feel Blake’s body heat. For a second, nothing happens. Mark twitches a little.

Then Blake’s fingers slide into the knot of Mark’s tie. He pulls at it, tugging Mark forward half a step, then he works to undo the knot. 

“You’ve been so good these last few games,” Blake says, and it could be conversational, could be a captain thing, but Mark knows it isn’t. Blake knows the way Mark’s skin flushes red and the way his breathing hitches when Blake tells him he’s been good. “But.” 

Mark’s breathing stutters to a stop and he stares up at Blake’s face.  _ But.  _

“You’ve been taking some stupid risks,” Blake continues, and Mark can feel his face fall. “Mouthing off to the ref, almost getting in fights.” He shakes his head and pulls Mark’s tie off, wrapping it around one of his hands.

Mark stares at the floor, shame burning in his throat. “Sorry,” he says. 

Blake wraps a hand around the back of Mark’s neck, scratching his fingernails through the hair there. He doesn’t waste time before curling his fingers tight, pulling hard. Mark’s breath catches and he tilts his head back.

“I don’t need you to apologize,” Blake says. His voice is still calm, but his eyes are dark as he looks over Mark. “I need you to learn your lesson, okay?” He eases up a little and studies Mark’s face. “Good?”

Mark swallows hard. “Yes,” he says, quiet.

Blake’s hand tightens in his hair again. He raises an eyebrow. “Yes,  _ what?” _

“Yes, sir,” Mark says, his face burning.

“Good,” Blake says, and he leans in to kiss Mark. It’s hot, hard, and Mark shivers as arousal flares at the base of his spine. Without breaking the kiss, Blake unbuttons Mark’s dress shirt and pushes it off his shoulders.

Blake still has Mark’s tie wrapped around his hand. Mark barely has time to wonder why before Blake’s spinning them around and pushing Mark down. Mark gasps as Blake arranges him the way he wants, bent over the couch with both his hands behind his back. Blake’s fingers flex around his wrists.

“I’m going to tie your wrists,” Blake says. “Is that okay?” 

They’ve done this before in all kinds of different ways, but Blake always asks if he’s okay with everything first. It makes something in Mark feel warm and gooey and those are not exactly the emotions he wants to feel when Blake has him bent over and ready to be tied up.

Mark shakes off those feelings for later. “Yes, sir,” he says hoarsely.

The first touch of silk against his skin makes him shiver. It’s soft at first, gentle, as Blake winds the tie around his wrists properly.    


Then Blake cinches the knot and Mark jerks, twitching against the couch. 

“Hey,” Blake says, stern, “be good.” He tightens it again and Mark doesn’t move an inch, just exhales as some of the tension bleeds out of his shoulders. “That’s better,” Blake says. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

It takes a moment for Mark to respond. “No, sir,” he agrees. His voice is a little faint and he’s hard in his pants. The zipper keeps chafing against his dick, and he’s torn between wanting to press into the friction and wanting to pull away from the discomfort.

Blake makes that decision for him. He reaches around and unbuckles Mark’s belt, pulling it slowing through each loop before dropping it to the floor. He undoes the button of Mark’s pants, unzips the fly, then pushes down his pants and underwear all at once.    


He taps at Mark’s ankles to get him to step out of his pants and socks, leaving Mark completely naked while Blake is still wearing his suit.

Something about that imbalance makes Mark feel dizzy with sudden heat. He flexes his fingers and feels the silk chafe around his wrists. There’s no give to it at all. 

Blake finishes putting Mark’s clothes out of the way and steps up close, his body hot and solid against Mark’s bare skin, even through the suit. Blake gets both hands on Mark’s shoulders and pulls until he’s standing straight. He turns Mark to face him.

Mark flushes at Blake’s eyes on him. His gaze skitters away from Blake’s face and he stares instead over his shoulder at the blank wall. It’s safer. Easier. 

Easy, until Blake gets a hand around his jaw and turns his head back to face him properly. “Look at me,” he says, his voice low.    


Shivering, Mark obeys. “I’m sorry, sir,” he says. Even his voice wavers. He forces himself to keep his gaze steady on Blake’s eyes, the familiar green dark with arousal.

Blake’s grip on his face softens and he cups Mark’s cheek. “That’s good,” he says, stroking his thumb over Mark’s cheekbone. “Really good, baby.”

Mark knows his face is a furious red right now, but he refuses to look away again. Not when Blake is touching him so gently and telling him he’s  _ good. _

The hand still on Mark’s shoulder tightens and presses down just a little. It’s enough for Mark to know what Blake wants. As gracefully as he can with his hands bound, Mark lowers himself to his knees. He tips his head back expectantly.

Blake unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly enough to get his dick out. He’s hard, almost leaking despite not having been touched. He gets a hand in Mark’s hair and tugs him forward so he can rub his dick over Mark’s lips. 

It’s humiliating. It’s hot. It’s all mixed up in Mark’s head and all he can do is let Blake do what he wants until he draws back. Mark licks his lips, staring up at Blake through his eyelashes.

Blake thumbs at Mark’s lower lip and without thinking about it, Mark parts his lips and takes Blake’s thumb into his mouth. He closes his eyes, sucking Blake’s thumb as if it were his cock, fingers flexing uselessly against his lower back. He moans around Blake’s thumb.

He whines when Blake pulls his thumb out, not bothering to feel embarrassed about it anymore. Blake doesn’t make him wait long, though, getting both hands in Mark’s hair so he can push his cock into Mark’s mouth.

Mark holds perfectly still as Blake presses forward, breathing through his nose. He curls his hands into fists and digs his fingernails into his palms to keep himself grounded.

Blake pauses when he has his cock fully inside Mark’s mouth, hands fisted almost painfully tight in his hair. “I’m going to fuck your mouth, okay?” Blake says.    


Mark can’t speak, but he moans around his cock and tries to press impossibly closer. Through the rushing in his ears, he hears Blake huff a soft laugh.

“Desperate, huh,” Blake says. He doesn’t give Mark a chance to feel embarrassed before drawing away and thrusting back in. “Fuck,” he bites out, “your  _ mouth.” _

He keeps his thrusts slow for a while, letting Mark get used to it. Mark whines around his cock, eager to take more, to show Blake that he can, that he’s  _ good. _ Blake’s hands grip Mark’s hair tighter, pulling him down onto his cock, and he starts to fuck Mark’s face properly.

Blake is a big man—big  _ everywhere. _ It isn’t long before Mark is choking, drooling around Blake’s cock and his eyes burn with tears. Blake notices, swiping a thumb under one of his eyes to brush away a tear, but he doesn’t let up. Mark is glad he doesn’t.

Blake’s breathing takes on a ragged edge and he pulls Mark off. Mark leans forward before he realizes what’s going on and settling back on his knees. He stares up at Blake expectantly.

For a minute, Blake doesn’t do anything besides stroke his fingers through Mark’s hair while he collects himself. Finally, he tugs sharply. “Up,” he says, voice even but thick with arousal. 

It’s hard to stand with his hands bound and his legs shaking, but Mark manages. He stands straight and looks at Blake, knowing Blake can see how desperate he is. Blake strokes his thumb over Mark’s bottom lip again but he doesn’t put it in his mouth this time.

Mark gasps when Blake takes his shoulders and spins him around abruptly, then shoves him face down over the back of the couch again. Blake’s hands slide from his shoulders to rest at his hips. He squeezes hard—hard enough to leave bruises, probably—then his touch disappears.

“Don’t move,” Blake says. 

Mark can’t see what he’s doing, but he hears Blake’s clothing rustle and the snap of lube opening. He takes deep, steadying breaths and shuts his eyes. 

He doesn’t have to wait long. Blake presses a slick finger against him, the lube still cold. He rubs over Mark’s hole before slipping his finger in to the knuckle.    


Mark jerks and gasps, the cold almost as shocking as the abruptness of the movement. His arms pull instinctively at his bonds, but the knot doesn’t give. “Blake,” he tries, “please—” He cuts off with a moan when Blake curls his finger. 

“Shh.” Blake strokes his free hand down Mark’s side. “Don’t you want to be good for me?” He slides a second finger inside, spreading them and making Mark’s thighs shake. “Don’t you?” he asks again, the sharpness of his voice softened by the laugh threatening to break loose. He twists his fingers against Mark’s prostate before Mark can answer.

Mark’s voice breaks on a whine, but Blake asked him a question. “Yes,” he gasps, “yes, I want to, please,  _ ah—” _ A shudder runs up his spine. He sucks in a deep breath.

“Mark,” Blake says, voice low, “try that again.” He adds a third finger and thrusts them slowly against Mark’s prostate, spreading them with each pull away and tugging at his rim with his fingertips.

“What—?” Mark’s head spins. He can’t focus, he doesn’t know—oh.  _ Oh. _ “Please, sir,” he murmurs, shaking, “please, I want to be good for you, I—” He bites his tongue at the next thrust of Blake’s fingers, almost pushing up on his toes.

Blake wraps his free hand around Mark’s wrists and holds him down, keeping his chest pressed against the leather couch. Mark’s skin sticks to the leather and his skin stings against it every time the force of Blake’s hand pushes him forward.

He doesn’t get any warning when Blake pulls his fingers out and chokes on air at the empty feeling inside him. His feet slip on the rug, but he keeps standing. He’s going to be good. 

Besides, Blake doesn’t leave him empty for long. As soon as he’s slicked his cock, he presses against Mark and grips his hip with one hand. He thrusts inside with one motion, too fast,  _ too fast, _ but Mark arches his back as best he can and moans at the ache.

“Good boy,” Blake says, taking Mark’s hips in his hands. He pulls Mark’s ass back against the cradle of his hips to grind impossibly deeper, forcing all the air out of Mark’s lungs.

Mark knows he’s going to have bruises shaped like fingerprints on his hips and marks around his wrists. He can’t wait. Every bruise, every mark, is a reminder. When his gear chafes against his wrists with every move, he remembers what will happen if he tries anything stupid.

He pulls against the tie just to feel it tighten and drops his head forward, panting.

Blake digs his thumbs into Mark’s hips to hear him whine and gives him a moment to get used to it. It isn’t a long moment, though, and it isn’t long enough.    


Hands tight around Mark’s hips, Blake draws back until only the head of his cock is holding Mark open. He pauses, lets Mark breathe, then thrusts back in. His grip on Mark’s hips is firm enough that he doesn’t get pushed up the couch and Mark cries out.

Blake pushes Mark’s hips down and holds him in place before really putting his back into it.

Mark can’t get any leverage, can’t push back and can’t pull away—not that he would if he could—and his hands spasm uselessly. He has nothing to muffle his noises with and when Blake grabs his hips and tips them just enough to thrust into his prostate, Mark bites his lip hard enough that he tastes iron.

It takes a deep, hard grind of Blake’s hips for Mark to remember that Blake is still wearing his suit. He whimpers as the fabric rubs against the backs of his thighs, the zipper cold and sharp. 

“Blake,” he says, choked. “Sir. Please.” It’s all he can manage. He hopes Blake understands it as the plea that it is.

Blake presses his fingers against Mark’s hole, feeling where they’re joined, feeling how wet he is from the lube and Blake’s precome. Mark closes his eyes and lets out a strangled sob. Slowly, Blake rubs calloused fingertips over Mark’s rim.

“You’re so desperate,” Blake murmurs. His voice is raw, the only sign that he’s affected by this. He pushes his fingertip a little harder against Mark’s rim to feel the give.

For a second, Mark thinks he’s going to try putting a finger into him beside his dick. It wouldn’t be the first time.

He doesn’t.    


Instead, Blake picks up the pace and reaches around to take Mark’s cock in his hand. He strokes him just on the wrong side of too-tight, but Mark doesn’t care. He’ll take whatever Blake decides to give him. 

Mark doesn’t bother trying to beg with words anymore. It wouldn’t do any good, not when his mind feels like it’s been put through a blender, so he tries to do it with his body. He squeezes around Blake’s cock, rocks back and forth as best he can against the hand Blake has on his hips and doesn’t try to keep himself quiet.

Blake loves when he gets loud.

Sure enough, Blake bites off a groan and jerks Mark off faster, keeping the motion of his hand in time with his hips. Mark feels heat burning at the base of his spine as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

“Mark,” Blake says, “come on, come for me.” He punctuates it with a twist of his wrist and a grind of his hips and Mark can’t hold on any longer.

He comes against the leather couch with a whine. Blake strokes him through it until it feels almost painful, then he releases Mark’s cock to hold him up by his hips while he finishes. Mark bites his lip and takes it, legs shaking with how sensitive he is.

It isn’t long before Blake grinds in deep and comes, blunt fingernails digging into Mark’s skin. Mark shudders at the slick warmth inside him, then shivers harder when Blake pulls out slowly. He hears Blake’s clothes rustle before he does up his zipper.

Mark can’t really move yet. He waits while Blake undoes the knot and drops his crumpled tie to the floor. Blake helps him straighten his arms and rubs his shoulders when he groans at the stiffness.

“You with me?” Blake asks. He wraps his arms around Mark and pulls him up, holding him close.

Mark flushes, shuddering as he feels Blake’s come slide down his inner thigh. He tucks his face into Blake’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he mumbles belatedly. “‘m okay.”   


Blake laughs softly, the sound vibrating in Mark’s chest. “Yeah, you are,” he says affectionately. He kisses Mark’s temple. “You’re good.” He wraps an arm around Mark’s waist and helps him to the bathroom. 

Mark leans against the doorway to support himself while Blake turns on the shower. He urges Mark under the spray when it’s the right temperature, then crosses the bathroom to fill the bathtub with water. 

Mark watches through the glass while Blake strips off his suit before his vision is obscured by steam. It’s still enough to make out Blake returning to the shower before he steps inside. Mark shivers at the cool gust of air he brings with him, but Blake gathers him in his arms and he warms up right away.

Blake cleans him up slowly, his big hands gentle on Mark’s skin. He lingers at Mark’s hips, brushing light touches over the aching marks there. He kisses Mark’s cheek half-apologetically but Mark closes his hands around Blake’s and holds them over the bruises. 

“I like it,” he whispers. “I like to remember.”

Blake’s eyes are dark and he rubs Mark’s hips a little harder before moving on.

Once they’re clear of lube and come, they cross the bathroom and slip into the full bathtub. Blake gets in first and reaches out to help Mark in after him. Mark settles between his legs, his back to Blake’s chest. He tips his head against Blake’s shoulder and sighs.

The hot water makes the stiffness in his shoulders dissolve. He finds one of Blake’s hands and laces their fingers together underwater, keeping his grip loose. Blake’s free hand rests on his thigh, tracing nonsense patterns on his skin.

Mark is almost asleep by the time the water starts to cool, letting Blake lift him out of the tub to towel him off.

The sheets are blessedly cool and fresh when Mark falls into bed. He rubs his cheek against the soft pillow and sighs.

Blake lies next to him and wraps an arm around his waist. He kisses Mark’s shoulder. “You were so good tonight,” he says. “You’re always so good.” He finishes on a whisper. 

Mark closes his eyes and leans into Blake’s warmth without responding. There isn’t anything he needs to say, really.

Besides. 

Blake already knows.

**Author's Note:**

> ;)
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/symphony7inAmaj)


End file.
